The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1887-08-24
AN APACHE RAID.
NINE INDIANS BESIEGE ONE
WHITE MAN IN HIS RANCH.
The White Mans Brave Defense
The Redskins Hastily With
draw After Losing Three
Out of Their Number.


Sampson, whose ranch was in the track
taken by the last gang of renegade
Apaches, came into town this week,
thereby proving that the general belief
that his hair had been raised on the raid
was unfounded.
jeff escaped the red raiders, but he had
close call. In fact, he came in to have
an Apache bullet dug out of his thigh.
He did not know the Indians were off
the reservation, and their appearance in
the vicinity of his ranch was surprise.
He and man named Watkins were out
looking after cattle one morning when
they saw nine Apaches come out of an
arroya upon the mesa not more than five
hundred yards away. 1trequired but one
glance to satisfy jeff that the redskins
were out for mischief, and as there was
no cover behind which to fight with any
chance of avoiding their bullets, he yelled
to Watkins to 60 for the ranch, and dug
his heels into his broncho's flanks. The
Apaches yelled and followed, and race
for life began.
Simpsons ranch is an adobe house, sur
rounded by stockade corral, and once
inside he could stand off a bigger band
of Indians than the one at his heels. 1t
was five miles to the corral, and the white
mems horses were not in the best condi-
ton for such a race. The Indian ponies
gained on them gradually, and as the
range decreased, the Apaches opened fire.
But they could not shoot accurately, and
their bullets went wide of the mark un-
til, when within mile of the ranch, q
chance shot caught Watkins between the
shoulder blades, and he pitched from
the saddle dead.
Sampson pulled up long enough to see
whether Watkins was merely wounded
and disabled, intending to help him in if
possible, or to put a merciful bullet
through his brain if he was wounded
past help and liable to live long enough
to be tortured. When he saw that Wat
kins was dead, he resumed his flight,
but the Apaches had gained on him dur
ing his delay, and, when within fifty
yards of the corral, q ball broke one of
his horses legs, and he had to jump from
the saddle and run for his life. He
reached the stockade, sprang inside, and
swung the gate to its place, but bullet
got in before the gate was closed and
buried itself in his thigh. 1t was forty
four caibre revolver bullet. Sampson
threw the heavy bar into the socket,
drove in pin to make it fast, and ran
into the adobe, while the Apaches yelled
and fired their guns outside.
In the house he was all alone, but he
had arms, ammunition, and plenty of
food and water, and was confident that
he could stand a siege if the band should
not be REINFORCED. He tied suspender
around his thigh and twisted it with
stick to stop the bleeding, keeping an
eye at the loophole to be prepared for
tricks. The Apaches rode around the
corral, whooping and yelling and look
ing for weak spot. Sampson held his
Winchester ready and waited for some
thing to turn up. In a moment there
was loud whooping ON the north side of
the corral. Sampson did not pay any
attention to that. He watched keenly
the south side, and something turned up
there. The heads and shoulders of two
painted scamps turned up over the stock
ade. They stood up in their saddles and
so reached the top. jeff turned the
Winchester loose, and one of the pair
fell to the ground with u broken shoul-
der. The other disappeared unharmed.
Then Jeff jumped to the north window
and clipped the ear Of gentleman from
San Carlos who was getting over the
fence.
His activity discouraged that plan of
attack, and there was lull in the storm
of howls for few minutes. Then be-
gand the sound of chopping at the gate.
Two of the party were evidently trying
to hack through to the bar with their
hatchets. jeff reached for his SPRING
field, that carried heavy ball and ninety
grains of powder. He listened to the
the chopping until he located the spot
where the blows fell. He judged that the
Apache was probably right handed, and
was standing just behind the ten-inch
gate post. lie drew bead on the post
and pressed the trigger. The chopping
ceased, and Jeff subsequently found
that the ball went through the soft wood
and bored hole in the abdomen of one
of the choppers. If anybody will go to
the ranch jeff will point with pride to
that hole in the post.
That experience made the Indians wary
of indicating their positions near the
stockade, and the seven remaining war
riors withdrew out of range to think
things over. jeff kept his eye on them
until he saw them dismount and disap-
pear behind clumps of cactus, and then
he watched with redoubled vigilance for
the next move in the game.
For an hour all was quiet, and Jeff had
time to bandage his wounded thigh in
better shape and bathc it in cold water.
On the slope ofa low hill that was visible
over the corral from the window of the
adobe was stump big enough TO shelter
two men, if they were careful. jeff
chucklcd when he saw two Apachcs
crawling around to get behind that
stump. 1t was distant about 300 yards,
and jeff had used it as target so often
that he knew its exact range and the clc-
vatiou of his Winchester sight necessary
to reach it He did not try to prevent
the redskins from getting behind it. He
wanted them there.
They got there all right, and then
worked their little game. About 200
yards to the left of the stump the rest Of
the gang gathered in hollow, and by
waving their head feathers above shelter
tried to draw Jeff's fire, and induce him
to expose himself at the window. lie
saw the game, and fell in with it to the
extent of taking random shot toward
the hollow. As soon as he fired he threw
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